The Hot Gamer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #3)

by Alexa Davis

  “The real question is, Jackson, what do you want to accomplish in your life?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. I closed it, took a deep breath, and stared him in the eyes. The café was filling up now with lunching students and faculty and visitors. The noise was a familiar song that I’d loved for as long as I’d been a student. It was the sound of anonymity. To have people racing around in their little lives, completely unaware of who I was, or what I was capable of.

  The sometimes neglect of my family had become my calling card, and I had worked hard to stay invisible for a long time. I tilted my head and smiled at Dean Michaels. What I wanted, was to be Peter Pan. To stay a kid in school who dicked around with computers and trespassed where he wasn’t wanted, but always got away, even though it was sometimes by the skin of his teeth.

  “Dean Michaels, I want to be a student forever. I want to hit the pause button before I find myself with responsibilities and people who depend on me.” His eyes opened wide in surprise. “I know, not a noble cause. I hadn’t really thought about it before you asked, I just thought I was doing what any good tech geek should try to do.” I pushed my glass back and forth between my hands and thought some more. “I cannot express how impressed I am with your campus, and your program, and your willingness to give me your time.”

  “It sounds like you aren’t interested in attending our school, young man. Are you sure that’s your take-away?”

  “No. Not at all, I would love to go to Stanford. But, I’ve found something else worth having that can’t wait another two years. If I must choose between her and LA , and Stanford, I think I might have to forego another graduate degree.”

  He nodded and smiled at the server who brought us our food. The burger smelled like heaven, but my stomach churned and heaved, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

  “So, you’re turning us down for the big city life, huh?” He quipped, as he speared salad greens on his fork. “And here I thought all the smart kids knew about distance learning. As a matter of fact, I thought you were going to be trying to attend from the middle of Texas.”

  The storm raging in my gut began to slow, and I hazarded a French fry. “You’d accept me without my taking a single class on site?” I asked after I successfully swallowed the greasy strip of potato and reached for another.

  “Absolutely not.”

  I paused midbite. “I’m sorry?”

  “How far are you willing to go, to achieve your dreams, Jackson?” He prodded. “How hard are you willing to work?”

  I considered his question, my food forgotten and quickly cooling on my plate. “I’m willing to apply and accept the terms needed to get my masters’, but I’m not willing to give up my new work in Los Angeles, or the connections I’ve made there. How much time would you need me here to make this work for you, and for the school?”

  “That would be between you and your academic advisor. I can only tell you, that if you apply, you will be accepted. If you choose to be on campus full time, you will have your pick of lodging and will be treated like the asset you are.”

  “I drove here thinking I had an all or nothing choice to make. What you’ve given me is so much more that now I have to realign my parameters. I’ll apply, and I will make an appointment to come back and speak with Dean Carpenter.” I looked down at my burger and fries, and realized I was starving. I took a bite of the lukewarm bacon cheeseburger, and my stomach gratefully settled down enough for me to fill it.

  The Dean showed me the rest of the campus, and I spent an hour in his office filling out an official application and attaching the essay and biography I had prepared. I considered texting C.J. to let her know that I’d been accepted and even welcomed, if I was willing to make the sacrifice of the budding new life I was considering in LA. It was not a conversation to have via text, or on the phone.

  I drove home as fast as I dared, and gave myself a mental high five when I was within an hour of the apartment and it was only half past five. I texted her then, warning her to get rid of the strippers she probably had over, and asked what she wanted for dinner. She sent back a rapid-fire response of multiple texts I’d need to park before I could read, so I gave up and called her to save myself from having to get off the freeway and delay my arrival.

  “I just answered you and realized you’d probably die reading them while driving,” she said as she answered the phone. “I just ended my stream, so why don’t you just pull up out front, and we can go out to celebrate?”

  “What makes you think we have anything to celebrate?”

  “You opened with a joke about male strippers in the apartment. No man jokes about a cheating girlfriend when his day is shit,” she pointed out, and I laughed.

  “Well, it’s not a simple, happy-ending situation, but yeah, today went well. I’ll be there in less than twenty minutes. Can you get dressed and ready by then?”

  “Are you suggesting I did the stream in my pajamas, like a lazy schmuck?” I stayed silent, not sure how to answer.

  “Yes, I’m in sweatpants, and yes, I will be outside waiting for you, in fifteen minutes,” she groused. “Geez. You’d think a girl could go a day without brushing her hair without being judged.”

  I laughed out loud and told her I was hanging up so she could brush her hair, and maybe her teeth, since those things usually went together on the hygiene schedule. She replied with a colorful string of profanities that had me laughing so hard my side hurt, before she signed off with a quick “I love you.” I wasn’t sure she even knew she’d said it.

  My face split in a grin. She didn’t even realize she’d told me what she felt, which meant it was true. I would’ve waited years for her to trust me enough to say it purposefully, and I probably still would. But, she loved me. Enough to brave the lion’s den and go home with me, maybe enough to move north for Stanford. Knowing she was pulling for me gave me a case of lead foot as I hurried back to LA, and to her. If anyone could put my choices in perspective, and help me select an appropriate course, it would be C.J.

  33. Carina

  I ran around the apartment like a chicken with its head cut off, putting up my hair and shaving my legs again. He hadn’t told me anything, but his voice had sounded like he was about to explode from everything he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t until I was pulling my hair out of the curlers and dripping them on the floor at my feet while I picked through my closet that my stomach dropped and my brain came to a screeching halt.

  Had I ended that call with a casual declaration of love? My heart pounded and my palms dampened. God, only I would be so stupid as to just toss those words out without thinking instead of making sure it was meaningful and would be heard. Then again, he hadn’t said anything in return, and had been humming a country song when he hung up, so maybe he hadn’t heard and I hadn’t ruined what was supposed to be an important moment. Especially after I’d already ruined it for him.

  I picked out a dress that was just tight enough, and just short enough to make Jackson look me over a second time, but not revealing enough for me to spend the evening fending off perverts and assholes who were just as likely to come onto me to pick a fight with my guy, as to get my attention. I dug into the back of my closet for my favorite strappy sandals, excited that I could wear the six-inch heels without dwarfing my tall, hunky cowboy. Dressed, hair checked and the stray curler I’d found discarded, and Stiles the cat chowing down on his stinky salmon pate, I locked the door and strutted out to the curb just as Jackson pulled up.

  He let out a long, low whistle as I jumped up into the passenger seat and put on my seatbelt. After a few seconds, when we didn’t pull away from the curb I glanced over at him, and found him still leering, a predatory smile on his face. I laughed and blushed, and smacked him on the knee.

  “Buy me a couple of drinks, and we can show this Jeep a thing or two on the way home,” I offered as incentive to get moving. He chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows at me, but pulled into traffic, humming a country tune
along with the radio and smiling softly to himself.

  With a little prodding, I finally got him to tell me how his meeting had gone, though he still wouldn’t tell me where we were going to dinner. In turn, I told him our flight was leaving tomorrow at lunch, and that I’d arranged for Shelby to take Stiles while we were gone, like she usually did when I was out of town for photo shoots or other work. She’d agreed enthusiastically, and when I asked why she was so excited I was leaving, she had pointed out that for as long as she’d known me, even before we were friends, I’d never taken a trip that wasn’t business related.

  When I admitted that to him, he was shocked. I’d been all over the world, but I’d never taken a vacation. In truth, I’d never really taken a day off. Every minute of every day was spent growing my sponsorships, or streaming, or building costumes, or working toward or in modeling gigs. I felt a flutter in my stomach. Jackson was the first guy I’d ever talked to online before I met him in person. He was the first guy I’d ever had stay with me in my apartment, and the first I’d let touch one of my costumes, let alone paw through them the way we had, playing together before convention.

  When he finally parked, I looked at the building ahead of us. We were on Melrose and headed toward an acclaimed seafood place called Providence that I hadn’t been to in ages. I tucked my hand over his arm and leaned into him as we walked toward the front door. He was still in his cowboy boots, wranglers, and a dress shirt, and I itched to unbuckle his big belt and get him down to the boxer briefs I knew were hiding underneath. He was so tall and muscular and confident; every eye was on him as we entered the restaurant. I’d always been afraid of what would happen if I ended up with someone prettier than me. As it turned out, I liked the freedom of not being looked at.

  Melrose was popular for even big celebrities, so my small success in the entertainment world and subsequent recognition wouldn’t cause gawking in a place like that. He ordered drinks and appetizers for both of us, which earned him a raised eyebrow from me, but I let him do it, mostly to see how far he took the “dominant male” thing.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I asked where the best place to take you was when I stopped for gas. I was told by a fan of the place that we had to order these starters. You’re on your own for dinner.”

  I glanced at the descriptions under what he’d order. The baked cream cheese in toasted sesame seeds did sound good, and more my style than whatever seafood salad, martini-style, appetizer had been offered by the server.

  “The lady who suggested this place was adamant that it was the most loved dish by regular patrons, even though the restaurant doesn’t put it on the menu or advertise it.”

  “The fat, wrinkled, old lady who walked with a limp and was missing teeth, who suggested this place to you?”

  He choked on his microbrew as he laughed. “No, the very expensive, wears fur in the summer with her hot pink mini-dress, driving a Porsche, bright pink lipstick on her surgically altered teeth lady did when she promised me that if I brought my girlfriend here, she’d adore me for life.”

  I snorted and coughed into my napkin. “She was right.” I said, straight-faced, picking daintily at the napkin as I set it back in my lap.

  It seemed like forever before they brought out the first appetizer, a block completely coated with sesame seeds, toasted and fragrant, with a small stack of crabmeat on top, and thin, crispy crostini and crackers on the side.

  “It’s crackers and cheese. They even left the cream cheese in the block you get at the grocery store.”

  I eyed it suspiciously, and Jackson pushed it towards me. “You never know, it might be a spiritual experience.”

  I scoffed and dug into a soft corner of the warm cream cheese with a cracker, making sure to take as much of the crabmeat as would fit, as Jackson glowered at me. I bit into the cracker and froze. It was so creamy and delicious, I was half tempted to mimic the famous Meg Ryan scene from “When Harry Met Sally.” I glanced over the table and saw the glint of victory in his eyes. “It’s okay,” I said with a shrug. I pushed the plate towards him, half hoping he’d turn it down so I could claim it for myself. “Definitely… edible, certainly not the high-end fare I’m used to here.”

  He rolled his eyes and tried a bit, and halfway through his eyeroll, they rolled back in his head in ecstasy. I reached for more before he came to claim his full share and almost didn’t get away before he clipped my hand with is fork.

  “You devil-woman,” he laughed and reached out for my hand. “If you like it that much, you can have the whole thing, for all I care.”

  I shook my head. “No, and not just so we can be one of those disgusting couples who are always nauseating everyone around them, saying ‘no you take it,’ ‘oh no, I insist.’” I made a gagging sound and when he laughed, I swiped more of the cream cheese bliss.

  By the end of dinner we both agreed that when we came back we’d just get three cream cheese appetizers to go, but dinner was amazing and filling, even though we ran out of cream cheese and had to move on to the rest of the meal. I thought he’d have to roll me back to the Jeep, but instead, we walked down Melrose at an easy pace, looking in windows and making fun of the well-to-do around us.

  “Wait, isn’t your family loaded?” I asked as he mimicked a spray-tanned bodybuilder who climbed into a Tesla and peeled out ahead of us.

  “Sure, but they’d be as uncomfortable here as lobsters in the holding tank. If you asked them, they’d say they were rich in family and friends. They’ve never really thought of themselves as wealthy.”

  “I love that. Just in case they ask, I may have no family, but have a lot of my own money. I know that when a guy with money has a girl chasing him as hard as I chased you, they might wonder what I was after. Rest assured, I don’t need your money.”

  He chuckled and pulled me tighter to him. “Is it just me, or are the lights on Melrose, just a little brighter than everywhere else?” he whispered as we made an about-face and headed back toward the car.

  “Well, the Melrose folks wouldn’t have it any other way,” I scoffed. We weaved along the sidewalk like a couple of drunks, refusing to let go until we absolutely had to, and for once, I was happy to get looks from strangers as we staggered down the road. Jackson suggested I do a partial stream in the morning, which meant I had to go online as soon as we got home to let my audience know about the schedule change. It also meant that as lovely as the evening had been, we were probably going to bed without talking about Jackson’s family stuff or Stanford.

  I ran into the booth and hopped online to talk to the few viewers who were lurking elsewhere and would come over when they saw I was streaming, and set up an early morning viewer stream, where they could pick the game and I’d team up with subscribers who wanted to. I’d forgotten all about what I was wearing, until one of the guys in chat asked if I had a date. I hadn’t told anyone about Jackson. I hadn’t known a good way to make an announcement that I was seeing someone to the whole world, on a platform that could haunt me forever if I did it wrong.

  I replied to the chat that I had just come home from a great date with an amazing fellow gamer. The chat was immediately filled with well-wishes and “It’s about times” from the guys who had been tuning in since the beginning. A few of them even reminded me that if he ever hurt me, they’d be happy to take him out for me.

  It was strange, thinking that for what it was worth, this was what amounted to family for me. Sure, there were a few bad eggs, a couple of perverts and trolls, but, by and large, the guys and gals who I hung out with every day, who had stuck around through my breakups and donated to my costumes, sight unseen, who I laughed with and swore at when they beat me at games, were true friends. They had hunted me down and sent me flowers in the hospital after a car accident, and had supported me when I spoke out against the predators that seemed to have control of the modeling industry, and the ways they hurt young models.

  I had been very lucky in life, recently. It made me wonder
when the other shoe was going to fall.

  34. Jackson

  The flight was as easy one to make, at a time of day that shouldn’t have been difficult to get to with plenty of time to spare. Which meant, of course, that we were scrambling around at the last second trying to get Stiles’ cat food and toys assembled as C.J. ran around the apartment looking for her “lucky” t-shirt - the one thing she hadn’t packed, and just could not leave without. A quick shouting match and a search of the washer and dryer located it, freshly cleaned, at the back of the dryer drum.

  I counted to one hundred a couple of times as she found three or four more last second items she couldn’t live without, then we raced to the Jeep. Par for the course, our route contained the only patch of traffic (an accident), and when we reached the car rental return, we were behind a dozen other customers. Finally, I suggested to C.J. that she valet our luggage and head toward security, and I would join her in line as soon as I was done.

  The cars slowly, but surely moved through the line, and I turned in my keys and made a run for security with my pre-printed boarding pass in hand. Up at the front, I could see a worried C.J. looking around as she approached the x-ray machines, and I texted her to let her know I’d made it into the line and could see her. I watched as she glanced down, then scanned the crowd one more time before stepping through security. A minute later, I got her reply, and told her I’d be at the gate as soon as I could.

  As though we’d passed some test set before us by the TSA gods, it was then that they decided to open a few more lanes. The clock above the light boards that announced the arrivals and departures said I still had fifteen minutes until we boarded, so I stepped into the newsstand and bought C.J. a fantasy novel by an author I’d seen at her place, and some candy and chocolate.